


midnight oil

by cliche_username



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, No editing we die like mne, OT3RACHA, his name is Chris I call him Chris why don't we have a tag that says Chris Bang | Bang Chan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 16:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16201163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cliche_username/pseuds/cliche_username
Summary: Jisung yanks his headphones off after about the thirteenth take and slumps against the bench in the recording booth. “Two minutes,” he calls. “Just give me two minutes.” He puts his head in his hands.About twenty-two seconds later, he starts to cry.





	midnight oil

Jisung yanks his headphones off after about the thirteenth take and slumps against the bench in the recording booth. “Two minutes,” he calls. “Just give me two minutes.” He puts his head in his hands.

About twenty-two seconds later, he starts to cry.

It’s been a long day. It’s been a long week, a long month, a long _year._ My Pace promotions are an all-day affair and then afterwards it’s back to the JYP building to practice until they can’t stand up straight anymore before everyone can go home. Everyone, of course, except for 3RACHA, because they’re three incredibly ambitious idiots who said yes, they can have another album ready to promote in three months, no it’s not a problem at all. They’re supposed to be recording guides to be working from so that the rest of the team can be practicing to record real songs, except that they’ve kind of hit a roadblock and now-- well.

It actually takes Chris about seven seconds to realize that Jisung is crying. The recording booth intercom is still on, but Jisung cries quietly and it takes him that long to identify the sounds. But then oh, _shit,_ and Chris saves the track he’s trying to edit and lurches out of his seat and crosses the room to the recording booth and squeezes inside. He almost trips on the mic setup on his way across the tiny space, but everyone on the team’s done that at one point or another. He crouches in front of Jisung and rests his hands on Jisung’s kneecaps, lightly, and Jisung looks up. He’s crying in soft huffs and sniffles, tears falling nonstop, and he doesn’t meet Chris’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I can’t, I don’t-- I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m sorry--” he sobs and buries his face in his hands again. There’s a yank at something behind Chris’s vocal cords and he straightens up and pulls Jisung into a hug, and Jisung buries his face in Chris’s shoulder and sobs. His hands make fists in Chris’s hoodie. He feels small. He feels _tiny_ like this. God, Jisung’s seventeen years old and he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders, doesn’t he, all of Stray Kids’ futures resting on him and Changbin and Chris.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I promise,” Chris says, rubbing a small, right circle on Jisung’s shoulder blade with his thumb. “You’re doing great. It’s late, none of us are thinking straight. It’s not your fault.” Jisung just cries, full-body shaking against Chris’s front. He pulls in a deep breath, like he’s trying to collect himself, but he just slumps into Chris and cries more quietly. Chris loosens his grip enough to rub Jisung’s back, and he whispers,

“Do you think you can get up? We should go home.”

“ _No--”_ Jisung picks himself up and looks at Chris and Chris could be sick with guilt because Jisung looks _awful,_ red-eyed and mouth trembling, but Jisung just says, “We have to finish, hyung, just give me a minute, I--” but then he breaks off and looks like he’s lost all his words. He drops his head and begins to cry afresh. “I just need a minute,” he whispers, clutching at Chris’s sleeves.

“You need to sleep,” Chris whispers. “We all do. When we work on this tomorrow, we can do this first and you’ll have rested a bit, you’ll do great. But whatever’s going wrong won’t be fixed tonight and we need to be ready for tomorrow. Or today, I guess.” He holds Jisung’s arms just above the elbow and tries to meet his eyes, but Jisung looks away. Bites his lip.

“Come on, Sungie,” Chris says. “It’s okay. Let’s go home.” He gets to his feet, and gently tugs Jisung upright after him. As soon as he’s on his feet, Jisung falls into Chris again and buries his face in his sweatshirt. He’s still crying, but quietly. Chris pulls him back a bit and wipes his face with the corner of his sleeve, but _shit_ the gesture just makes him start crying more. “Hey, hey,” Chris says, “it’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jisung stutters. Chris swallows guilt and just tugs him along, pulling him back into his arms and navigating them both around the mic stand, out the door of the recording booth. Changbin, preoccupied with laptop and enormous headphones, catches their motion out of the corner of his eye and starts. Then he pulls his headphones down and his eyes widen.

“ _Shit,_ Sungie,” he says, and closes his laptop. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He pushes the laptop off of him onto the sofa and gets up, ducks into the knot of Chris-and-Jisung to wipe at the tears and then ducks out again to grab the box of tissues off the soundboard. He cradles the box under one arm and pulls one out and dabs at Jisung’s face, and Jisung’s mouth flattens into an uncomfortable line and he ducks away from the gesture.

“‘M being stupid,” he mumbles. “Track’s not working. Tired.”

Chris tightens his grip. “You’re not being stupid,” he says. “And we’re all going home. Binnie, save whatever you’re doing, we’ll figure it out tonight.”

“It-- shit, it’s that late, isn’t it,” Changbin says, and ducks out of their little knot to go over to his computer and close it up. Jisung sighs and leans into Chris.

“You always stay out later than this, hyung,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, and all of you tell me you wish I wouldn’t,” Chris says. “I’m giving the people what they want.” Jisung gives a watery chuckle, and then his breath stutters and he turns to bury his face in Chris’s shoulder as he starts to sob again. The sound is muffled a bit but not extinguished, and his body shakes a bit against Chris, and Changbin looks over at the two of them and looks a bit horrified.

“ _Sungie,_ ” he says, and Chris feels like he might cry, too.

“We’re going home,” he says again. “Get Sungie’s stuff, please?”

“Ye-yeah,” Changbin says, “yeah, of course,” and he collects his jacket and Jisung’s hat and facemask and Chris’s as well, and Chris just stands there holding Jisung and swaying a bit as Jisung cries. Changbin says, “I’ve got everything, hyung, I’ll lock up,” and Chris _mm-hmm_ s and guides Jisung towards the door. Changbin follows them out, shutting off the lights and closing the door behind them, and then he attatches himself to the other side of Jisung and they make their way downstairs like that. In the lobby Changbin passes out hats and masks for the trip back to the dorm, and Jisung pulls away to sniffle and put his own mask on and pull his snapback on, low over his eyes. Chris pulls up his hood and puts on his mask, and Changbin tugs his bucket hat lower over his face and grabs Jisung’s hand. Jisung scrubs at his face with his free hand and leans into Changbin a little.

They go out into the dark and make their way to the bus stop, and Jisung’s quiet, but he keeps sniffling and wiping his eyes with his sleeve. They board the bus and sit together at the back, Chris and Changbin with Jisung between them, and Jisung leans forward and put his face in his hands. Chris suspects that if he tries to prod at Jisung’s condition they’ll both start crying in earnest, so he lets the silence hang. Changbin leads the way off the bus at their stop, and Jisung follows by himself, and Chris brings up the rear, and the walk to the dorms is made with Jisung huddled into himself, hands stuffed in his pockets and head down.

They get in the door and all three of them wind up leaning hard against the foyer walls as they take off their shoes, the exhaustion of the day quickly catching up. Changbin claims the bathroom first and Jisung vanishes into his own room and Chris is caught up for a moment in a stupid worry that he won’t come out again, that he’ll just climb into bed and go to sleep alone and they’ll start the whole spiel again later, but then he comes out again in sweats as Changbin exists the bathroom and stumps off to his room. Chris points Jisung into the bathroom first, and when he gets a blank look in return he insists. Then Jisung goes, and Chris goes to find Changbin. Changbin is already in his bunk, looking at his phone but looking distracted. When Chris comes in, he drops his phone and leans over the edge of the bunk.

“Sungie--” he says, and then halts. Like he doesn’t know what to ask. Chris sighs.

“Exhausted,” he says. “Overwhelmed, probably. It’s been a long… kind of a long forever.” Changbin snorts.

“Think he’ll be okay?” He asks. Chris hesitates.

“Yeah,” he says. “I do. He’s strong. You all are.”

Changbin nods. “Bring him in here tonight,” he says.

“Of course,” Chris says. “I’m not letting him go to bed alone. He’ll be in here in a minute.” he turns and leaves the room again, just in time to catch Jisung coming out of the bathroom. Jisung sees him and stops his motion forward and looks at the floor. He’s not crying, but he looks like he could be.

“Hyung,” he whispers.

Chris pulls him into another hug. “Get your pillow,” he says. “You’re with us tonight, okay?” Jisung nods into his shoulder. Chris lets him go. “I’ll meet you there in a second.” Jisung nods again, not looking at Chris, and then ducks back into his room.

Chris spends as little time as he can in the bathroom and when he gets back to his room Jisung is in his bed, crying again. Not loudly, and not like he’s still upset about something, but just-- crying. When Chris crawls into bed next to him and opens his arms, he squirms into them and hides his face in Chris’s sweatshirt.

“You okay?” Chris whispers. Jisung sighs, and his breath stutters, and he nods.

“I don’t know why I’m still crying,” he whispers, and his voice cracks. “I just-- I feel so _tired._ And stupid. And the track wasn’t working and I couldn’t rap right at all and everything just--” he breaks off to take another deep breath, and Chris rubs a circle on his back.

“It’s okay,” he says. “You’re okay. You did great today.” Jisung nods. “Sleep now,” Chris says. “We’ll figure it out later.” Jisung nods again. He slumps a bit, and he breathes deep in, out, in, out, and eventually it evens out into sleep. Chris pulls him a bit closer and rests his head above Jisung’s and closes his eyes.

They’ll figure it out later. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> first skiz work, woohoo! this kind of jumped fully-formed out of my head after the new album announcement and after hearing a bit of the Discourse on how hard our boys must be working. (ngl i'm so proud of them but ARE THEY SLEEPING I NEED TO KNOW) 
> 
> also spot the bias challenge
> 
> thanks so much for reading!!


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